Coming Home
by Leahelisabeth
Summary: Tag to 11x04 "Baby." Sam tells Castiel to hang out and watch Netflix in his bedroom. This is what happens when Sam comes home. Can be Gen or Pre-slash.


Sam was really hurting by the time the Impala limped into the garage at the bunker. He had tried to catch a couple hours when they stopped on the side of the road the night before but his body ached too much to sleep deeply and by the time he pulled himself out of the backseat to stretch, every muscle had tightened into a solid knot of agony. Dean didn't feel much better and Sam could tell he was pushing his baby's broken body to get them back to soft clean beds.

Sam could hardly stand but he dragged himself out of the car, somehow shouldered his duffle bag, and stumbled toward his room. He could hear voices before he reached it and that put him on guard, but when he slowly pushed the door open, gun in hand, all he saw was Castiel, lying fully clothed in his rumpled bed, pillow leaned up against the headboard.

Cas' eyes widened when he caught sight of Sam. "Are you well? What happened." He stood up quickly, pausing the show he had been watching, and walked toward Sam, hand outstretched to heal.

Sam dodged him. "Go heal Dean first. I can wait."

"Are you sure? I no longer have finite resources. I can easily heal you both," Cas replied, still reaching for Sam's forehead.

"I'm worried he might refuse entirely. It's been his pattern lately. But if you tell him you can't heal me till after, he'll have no choice," Sam dropped his duffle bag with a groan. "I can wait."

Cas nodded and left the room hurriedly.

Sam sighed and came further into his room. He smiled softly at the little touches of Cas he could see. His bed was rumpled and he had made it before he left. A book Sam had not been reading lay bookmarked on the bedside table. Literature related to their latest case was spread out on his desk and Sam realized that Cas has chosen to research here in his space instead of in the library. And of course Netflix was open on his tv screen. And suddenly his room felt so much more like home.

He toed off his boots. He wanted nothing now than to drop into bed and sleep for days but he was a filthy mess. Pants were shed first. They were the easy part. All he had to do was undo them and let them fall. His jacket was next. He shrugged and slid it off his arms, trying to move his back as little as possible. His plaid button up was also easy enough once he managed all the buttons. He thought of leaving the t-shirt but he looked down and saw blood spatter and dried mud, all things he didn't want in the bed. He got stuck trying to pull it over his head. He could only get so far before his bruised shoulders started screaming at him. The only thing that got him to finally fight his way free of the cloth was the fact that Cas was coming back and he didn't want him to see him helplessly trapped in his clothing.

Finally mostly unclothed, Sam looked down at his duffle. He should probably rifle through it, find something to wear for bed but even the thought of bending to the floor made his back ache. Instead he walked over to the bed and prepared to lower himself into it. It hurt. Eventually Sam gave up on lowering himself down and let himself drop, trying to get the pain over with.

He melted into the bed. He'd never been more thankful that Dean had convinced him to buy that memory foam mattress topper. Maybe it was also time to buy that extra long mattress so his feet wouldn't hang over the edge.

He wasn't in optimum sleep position but he simply couldn't muster up the energy to move again. He was dozing off when Cas returned.

Sam opened his bleary eyes as he felt the mattress depress beside him.

"It's only me," Cas said softly. "I wish to heal you now. Is that alright?"

Sam nodded and Castiel pressed his fingers to Sam's forehead. The relief was immediate and Sam practically moaned as he was finally able to relax.

Cas moved toward the door.

"Where you going?" Sam yawned.

"You have returned. I can no longer take over your bedroom. I will go find something else to do. Perhaps I will finally choose my own bedroom among the empty rooms here. Or I will sit in the library and wait for you and your brother to wake," Castiel said.

"Or," Sam paused. "You could stay. Finish your show. I don't mind."

"Optimal sleeping spaces require silence. I do not wish to keep you awake."

"You won't, Cas," Sam smiled sleepily. "I grew up trying to sleep through Dean and Dad snoring, talking in their sleep, and watching tv on sleepless nights. And then I had Lucifer chattering at me for months. It's silence that keeps me awake. I like having people there." He rolled over and made sure he was only lying on half the bed. He moved the pillow Cas had been leaning against to the other side. "There is enough room."

Cas smiled and sat back down on the bed, close enough to Sam that he could feel the warmth of the angel's body heat but they weren't actually touching. "Thank you, Sam, I did not wish to wait to continue watching. It is quite a compelling show, Sense8. It is highly improbable. God did not create people this way and I believe it is beyond the ability of human evolution. But it is so beautiful, to think of human beings able to share so much, to truly be together in heart and soul. It is a closeness I could experience with my brothers and sisters. It would be such a gift to humanity to be able to connect in this way. I think..." and Sam drifted off.

Sam woke a few times in the night but it was never hard to return to sleep with the low noise of the tv and Castiel breathing beside him. Sam couldn't help inching a little closer to that heavenly warmth every time he crossed the boundary into wakefulness.

In the morning, he drifted slowly back to consciousness and the tv was off. His face was mashed into Castiel's hip and he was inhaling the scent of peanut butter, old books, and something clean and nearly electric that Sam could only describe as the scent of angel. Above him, Cas was humming softly and Sam could feel strong fingers gently combing through his hair. Sam knew he should move away, get out of bed, find Cas a new place to watch tv, but in that moment between sleep and waking, his defences were down and the line was blurred between what he knew he must do and what he really wished to do. And so he nuzzled in, moving his arm from where it lay at his side and dropping it over Cas' thighs, and pulled the angel closer. Because this felt good. This felt right. This felt like coming home.


End file.
